Honor, Duty, and Love
by Ms.MaraJade
Summary: A novelization of the final Aramis and Anne scene from the episode "We are the Garrison," in which I have extended the moment with some artistic license to give insight into Aramis' thoughts at the end of his story.


_Author's Notes_ : This scene had been burning in me since the time I posted "Queen Takes Knight," and I decided to take a break from proofreading and polishing the chapter-length Musketeers story I have been working on for the last few weeks so that I could write this scene before I lose the emotion that has been driving it.

 _Disclaimer_ : I do not own "The Musketeers" in any capacity with the exception of the books written by Alexandre Dumas from where these characters were inspired. I do not own the scene from which I borrow, and I have merely extended it into a longer moment that I would love to read in a novel if the BBC series was ever presented in written form. There is no money made from this hobby, but that does not stop my imagination from conjuring up new stories. I hope I have captured the spirit of BBC's "The Musketeers," and that I have done justice to the characters as well as one of the many scenes that are so poignant to the series.

 _Summary_ : A novelization of the final Aramis and Anne scene from the episode "We are the Garrison," in which I have extended the moment with some artistic license to give insight into Aramis' thoughts at the end of his story.

 **Honor, Duty, and Love**

He stood in the courtyard, taking in a hard breath, wondering if he was truly ready for this. For most of his life, he was a soldier, a man who fought for honor and duty. He knew how to wield the sharp end of a blade and when to precisely time his finger over a musket trigger. He had felt free in that life – laughing, loving, and sharing in friendships of the strongest bonds. But, now his brothers from that life had all but scattered to different corners of their world, and he wondered if he had made the right decision.

He took a step, hiding the weary doubts that plagued him, and he wished he had his cavalier in his hand so that he could maneuver it in a flourish upon his head. Standing here without that hat reminded him that he could not hide beneath the brim or playfully let his eyes wander in the shadow that it would set across his face. He was vulnerable now, a man out of his element, and he could only pray that the sacrifices he made to his known comforts were worth this new life and all the changes he would endure.

Aramis thought about wandering through the gardens, to familiarize himself with the palace in this different capacity of first minister, so he could think beyond what he knew as a duty-driven musketeer. While he was more than familiar with every corner of the palace and its vast grounds from his days of protecting the king and queen under Treville's tutelage, he also saw it all so differently now.

Standing as he was in his blue coat and the polished medal that hung around his neck, he was not looking across these grounds as a man beneath the members of royal court, but as an equal to many of them. He observed how they moved about their confined world, talking their gossip and discussing petty things. As a musketeer, he was not privy to such conversations, and he often ignored their idle prattling. However, as first minister, he paid more attention to their movements and would strain his ears for their words. He had to know if there was anyone roaming the palace grounds who had knowledge of subjects that were threatening to France and its well-being.

Feeling the warmth of the sun and smelling the fresh-cut greenery of the garden, Aramis was distracted from his loathing and cumbersome thoughts as a joyous giggle surrounded him. He brought his eyes forward and watched young Louis running through the severely sculpted shrubs of the palace gardens. The child was growing quickly, and his health was strong – his breathing showing no signs of the infection that had captured his lungs when he was but an infant. Louis had overcome that ailment, and he had grown stronger because of it. Aramis could not have been more relieved to see that his son was strong and healthy, and it was the sight he needed right now when his thoughts were at their most doubtful.

Louis took a turn around one of the bushes and landed on the path that was heading directly for Aramis. The former musketeer felt his heart lighten, and he instinctively prepared to drop to his knees to catch the running child. It was because of this moment, and others like it he hoped to experience, that Aramis had taken the position of first minister. He would finally be allowed to be with his son, even if it was not in the capacity of a father directly. Instead, he would be a role model for Louis – much like Treville had been for him and his brothers. And he would teach Louis everything that a young boy and a man should know. He would teach weaponry, strategy, respect, and when his son was old enough, the ways of women. He would leave the tutors to teach reading, writing, and basic educational principles, but Aramis would teach Louis how to live and survive.

Hearing the laughter growing closer, Aramis started to release his smile, and he felt his chest swell in pride. His son was nearly free of the garden maze and then he would be heading directly for him. Unfortunately, his hopes were dashed as Louis' governess swooped in like a hawk and blocked his path. Aramis felt his heart crash heavily to the ground, and the wave of doubt clouded over him once again. There would always be a wall of propriety between him and his son, and he could never hope to be so affectionate – either in public or in private. Louis could never know he was his father, despite how much it ached for Aramis to take on that role.

Watching Louis distractedly move off in the direction that his governess had indicated, Aramis turned from the scene before him and decided he would be better off studying the issues Treville had left unfinished before his untimely demise. He had barely looked through the parchments earlier today, as he still needed time to come to terms with Treville's loss, his brothers' separation, and his newfound employment. He thought taking a walk through the palace grounds would have eased the restlessness, but after seeing Louis so close yet still so far, he realized that he would need more time than just a day or two to acclimate to so many changes.

Aramis walked towards the stone steps that would lead him back into the offices of the palace, and felt the weariness in his heart for another reason. He had barely seen Anne since he accepted this position, and he didn't understand why she had seemed to have disappeared. It was her petitioning that had won him such a promotion, and he could only fear that someone had made an accusation over her choice. If that was the case, he would expend what time and energy he could afford into dispelling such defamation against her. He would just have to strategically maneuver his arguments so that he does not validate her accuser's suspicions.

Movement on the steps broke Aramis from his musings, and he was prepared to offer a respectful apology for being underfoot to whichever noble was passing through. However, it was the scent of roses and lilacs that caught his attention before he could even lift his eyes to make his apology. He knew of one woman who wore such fragrances, and as his eyes traced the white lace from the skirts of her gown, his heart fluttered.

Anne stepped carefully, walking down the stairs towards him, and he had so many questions to ask. Slowly bringing his eyes up, he noticed the blue ribbons that were sewn into the expensive fabric of her dress, and that she had opted to wear a simple pearl necklace, as opposed to the opulent gems she had previously worn. Her earrings were as modest as her necklace, dangling white teardrops, and her long hair was secured tightly atop her head, with blue ribbons twisted in her curls that matched the ones on her dress.

Aramis looked to her blue eyes, the oceans that he had fallen within so long ago, and she took a final step towards him tentatively. Her eyes looked him over, seeming to appreciate and approve the blue coat of his newly-appointed rank. Again, he had so many questions to bring forth, but something in her irises held him from asking everything he wanted answered.

In her eyes, he could see that Anne was questioning if their encounter was real, and he was beginning to wonder the same. As though to prove neither of them were imagining this, Anne leaned towards him, and he was engulfed in the perfume of her roses and lilacs. For a brief moment, he feared one of the many nobles or court residents catching them in such close proximity, but something in Anne's eyes and demeanor led him to believe that they would not be harassed.

She took a final step, her delicate hand clutching the stone sculpture that decorated the stairs, and Aramis noted the nervous way her fingers curled around it. As he felt a tremor of his own, he looked into her ocean-blue irises and found himself reliving so many memories.

It had started with bodily protecting her from musket fire years ago and then it led into those silent conversations, as their eyes caught across the room. Her hidden smile had spoken volumes to him, and he had used his eyes to smile in return. Their time at that convent, though, had sealed their fates, and changed everything for the two of them. They had gone from distant infatuation to lovers…and then criminals. He never wanted to leave her and his son, but at that time the only way he could protect them was to remove himself from the suspicions and accusations. But, when he returned, nothing had changed in his heart for her or their son. He was as madly in love with her as he was the day he left, and now that he had been offered this position of first minister, it would be so easy to break through the walls of propriety.

Aramis took in a quiet breath, aware of Anne inching closer, and while he feared breaking propriety, he refused to fight against the emotions that had guided them to this moment. They needed no words to know what each felt for the other, and as Anne closed that gap, Aramis let his eyes close as he pressed his lips on hers, remembering everything that had brought them together. He felt her respond to his touch, her passion increasing as she pressed harder.

Surrounded by the scent of roses, lilacs, and freshly cut greens, Aramis found a joy in this moment that he had never thought he would know. He had never once imagined that he would earn the heart of a queen, and as she pressed forward, he could feel that she had never imagined she would know the compassion and love he wanted to give her. For as free as he had felt with a sword and musket, this was the first time that he believed that he was truly happy. And, as he kissed Anne in this moment of pure perfection, he realized it was finally over. That long struggle he suffered through to find love and a place where he could make his future had finally ended, and he would fulfill his role honorably as a lover, a role model, and a dignified first minister.


End file.
